


Hivemother

by profligate



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: AU - More Freaky Kids, Diego gets some quality time with Grace, F/M, Five ages up before anything develops, Gen, Human Experimentation, Laboratory Nastiness, Multi, Pinkie promise, Vanya needs a hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2019-11-15 01:35:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18064088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/profligate/pseuds/profligate
Summary: Five may have taken them home with their memories intact (to the chagrin of the Monocle), but trouble is afoot in New York. With his knowledge from time traveling, Five leads the Academy to new knowledge so horrifying...maybe they should have ridden out the Apocalypse in style.orFive finds them another sibling and shit does downhill, fast.





	1. Once more, With feeling

“Number Five, sit down this instan-”

 

Five rolled his eyes, nonplussed. His siblings looked at him, each with a twinge of fear, and for a moment everything was as it had been. As if they had all never lived their adult lives, never loved and lost...or escaped _him._

 

Five’s mind drifted to Vanya, comatose in the med bay downstairs, blissfully missing the reunion before them. He sighed heavily and turned on his heel before a voice stopped him.

 

“You’re gonna listen, old man, if we have to beat it into you.” Diego spoke suddenly, fists clenched on the table before him.

 

“Diego-” Allison started, but Luther cut in.

 

“No he’s right. Father, you need to hear this. It’s vital to our, to everyone’s, survival.”

 

The Monocle stared at his favorite son for a moment, then back at Five, before nodding jerkily. Grace chose this moment to sweep in with a cup of tea, setting it gently before her creator before retaking her usual post near the doorway.

Five began.

Hours later, they had all retired, in their thirteen year old bodies, along with Pogo, Grace, and their Father to the parlour.

 

“I told you countless times, Number Five, time travel can scramble your mind. You may have diverted the Apocalypse for now, but who knows what ripple effects you have created from bringing the lot of you back here.”

Klaus snorted loudly.

 

“Does it matter? We fixed everything once…” he trailed off, wincing.

 

Allison nudged him, hard, in the ribs.

 

“Yeah, at what cost?” she hissed.

 

“Okay, I misspoke, but still. We handled the Apocalypse...how much worse could it get?”

 

Five crossed his arms, standing near where his portrait had once laid, in the future.

 

“Much, much worse.”

 

The Monocle and his met eyes and Five sighed.

 

“We aren’t the only ones who were taken at birth." 

 

* * *

 

 

“Subject, you haven’t eaten your breakfast.”

 

You didn’t bother to raise your head at the crackle of the speaker, choosing instead to snuggle deeply into your thin mattress and fraying blanket.

 

“Subject, it is important that you remain strong. Melancholy is expected. Compliance is mandatory. At noon, you _will_ eat.” the voice demanded.

 

You nodded, trusting the omnipresent cameras to pick up the tiny movement. All of your existence was captured by the four domes in the corners of your “room”. Always blinking, always watching.

 

The lights were off, to your immense relief. Sleep slipped between your fingers like smoke, but at least your eyes were spared the glaring luminescence.

 

“Can...can I have water?” you asked tentatively, knowing it would please them.

 

A soft whoosh and the panel in your door opened, a pitcher and empty glass displayed instantly.

 

“Thank you,” you murmured. Manners were rewarded with more time in the dark.

 

Pouring yourself a glass and drinking slowly, you considered the caps on your fingertips. They’d initially tried cutting off your fingernails, to no avail. You’d managed with the nubs they left you with, every time. The last guard had been painful, when they took him down; an ache in your chest echoing from where they had shot him between his eyes, snuffing out the connection instantly.

 

There were no more guards, after that. A small node in the back of your neck and the cameras, always watching, as the speaker guided you throughout the bright and empty hallways. Sit down, lie back, relax....begin.

 

Toxic as you were, dangerous, they wouldn’t dare come near until you were blissfully beneath the anaesthesia and tranquilizers. You’d gleaned too much information from the last technician you had managed to take, the inky black of their pupil bleeding through to the sclera, leaving the sockets empty and void-like. It had rained that day, his mind had supplied, coffee sitting uncomfortably in his stomach, but he was too nervous to ask for the bathroom.

 

Guilt had churned in your gut just like his coffee, after they tased him and euthanized him, jaw tense behind your muzzle. So young, and it had been your fault.

 

But you had to get out. And you would, soon.

 

Pouring yourself another glass, you drank slowly, considering the panel the jug sat in.

 

Yes; soon.


	2. A Lesson in Subterfuge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw: emetophobia, vomiting, saliva, blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lord, thank you all for the kind kudos and comments. I apologize for the delay, and please heed the warnings if these things bother you.

Five watches Luther wonder at his new body, over the passing weeks. Time travel seems to have agreed with them all; nothing unstable, no flare of sudden aging or even a sign of the new Handler. 

 

He had no doubt that the foul woman had been immediately replaced. The entire organization was a machine, one missing cog could not be tolerated.

 

The most affected of all of them, Luther seemed to have taken the opportunity in his old body as a new lease on life. His obedience to the Monocle had an edge to it now, more questioning and less blind devotion. Allison mourned quietly for her yet unborn daughter, while Klaus and Ben continued on as if nothing had change. Despite being dead, the memories of his...ghostly self, had seemingly traveled with them; Five resolved to let that particular mystery go. 

 

Diego hadn’t been phased by their trip. He had been glued to Mom’s side since they first appeared in the foyer and Five was almost certain he had overheard him harassing the Monocle to upgrade her software.

 

As for Vanya, well. With her siblings behind her and Allison’s quiet Rumor removing her previous hypnosis, their Father had been in for quite the fight. They had listened as her tiny voice raged behind the office door, the wood shaking against the door frame. Nothing had broken but when they emerged the mood had cooled considerably. The two ignored one another for the time being; Vanya chose to spend her time with Five or Allison, honing her power safely, while the Monocle pretended not to observe.

 

All things considered, it had been a successful time travel. 

 

Aside from their impending doom.

 

His family had been less than enthusiastic about leaving the state on a wild goose chase for their remaining kin. Five grit his teeth as he stared at the large map on his wall, pins sticking out of various countries and states. 

 

“Ridiculous,” he muttered.

 

What could possibly be holding them back? He had dumped everything (mostly) he had garnered from his stint as a time traveling assassin. Places and times in the current century where he had observed other beings like them. Like him. 

Quite a few were dead or soon to be, he theorized. They were represented in cheerful blue pins scattered across the map, nineteen sticking into the corkboard. Those that were not a threat or otherwise unaware of any fantastically dangerous abilities, in yellow. They were the majority, fourteen blissfully mediocre miracles living their lives in peace. 

 

That left three. Three glaringly red pins staring at him.

 

Two were relatively out of his reach, for now, one in Europe and another nestled in the heart of India. 

 

The third was close enough to make his spine tingle. The scorching sands of Nevada, it had made him laugh almost to tears when he’d seen the small note in one of his case files for the Commission. 

 

Area 51. It was almost comical, if it weren’t also horrifying.

 

Power like that in the hands of the military and the government...it made him shudder.

 

Five closed his eyes and brought forth the memory of the note in the file.

 

“SUBJECT DELTA IS CONSIDERED ARMED AND DANGEROUS, DO NOT APPROACH, DO NOT ENGAGE. AVOID OR RISK MISSION FAILURE.”

 

Fantastic.

 

* * *

 

 

“Subject Delta, are you not hungry?”

 

You shake your head minutely. 

 

“I...I feel nauseous.” you whimper, curling in on yourself.

 

They don’t respond for a moment, static filling the silence. 

 

“Report to Med Bay 12, do not deviate, Subject.”

 

You rise with a little difficulty, hunched over and hobbling your way out of your cell. It taken you weeks to learn the, admittedly horrifying, art of making yourself sick. Gagging and holding your food in your throat to trigger your reflex. 

 

Little lights blink happily on the floor, leading you down the hallways. They intentionally switch rooms and names to keep you confused but you know it doesn’t matter. Today is the day you get out, and their little puzzle is not going to stop you.

 

Settling yourself in the chair, you try not to flinch when the automatic cuffs slide across your chest, wrists and legs. They hold you tight and you imagine this must be what a hug is like though you have no memory of one.

 

By design, you know they’ll have to keep you awake to diagnose you. All internal illnesses required patient cooperation. Listening to the lab techs when they thought you were blissfully asleep had earned you a fair amount of knowledge. 

 

The doors hissed open as They came in. You tensed, not having expected such a turnout. 

 

Always wearing masks and surgical splash guards, you’ve never seen more than a glimpse of even their eyes, let alone enough to identify them separately or parse their gender. There are three of them, and are never seen without the others. From what you’ve gleaned, They run this little horror show you live in, and are the ones that speak to you over the intercom.

 

The lead Doctor considers you from behind their splash guard, tilting their head as they stride forward.

 

“Symptoms please, Subject.”

 

The other two follow close behind, taking up stations on either side of her as two techs scuttle in and check the strength of your bonds.

 

“M-my stomach, it’s aching and I feel so s-sick. It’s like it's cramping all the time.” you bite out, shivering for effect. 

 

The three are silent for a moment before looking at one another.

 

“Perhaps appendicitis?” one suggests.

 

Another hums noncommittally.  

 

“A virus, more likely. Sterile environments can breed very resistant strains.”

 

The lead is silent, looking down at you.

 

“Prepare the CT, alert radiology.” they order and one tech disappears obediently.

 

One of them pulls out a small flashlight and gestures at you.

 

“Follow the light please, Subject.”

 

You do as you’re told and feel your stomach churn and your head pound. Its time.

 

“I’m gonna, I’m gonna be sick,” you gasp, body lurching as you begin to heave. 

 

The one inspecting you backs up swiftly, as do the others. 

 

“Technician, fetch the pump and the suits, prepare the sterilization-”

 

The lead is cut off as you finally vomit inside your muzzle, bile and food splashing against the hard plastic. You’re choking as it goes up your nose and you continue to throw up. 

 

“The Subject is going to suffocate, remove the muzzle,” The leader barks.

 

But the technician hesitates, looking frightened. Through the tears in your eyes you can see him falter, halfway to the door to fetch the stomach pump as he had been ordered.

 

Their leader begins to yell, one of their two colleagues circling to approach the technician. The third, primly pocketing their flashlight, steps forward.

 

“This is what we get for hiring civilians,” they mutter, reaching forward to undo your muzzle.

 

Too late, the leader notices and starts toward you on the chair.

 

Vomit and spit drips down your face as the muzzle is removed and you can almost feel the doctor’s terror as you open your mouth and black blood spills out. 

 

Finally.

 

In all the commotion, the technician had forgotten to restrain your neck, the only manual cuff, in case the machine misjudged and choked you. He must be new, you mused. You hadn’t been ill in years, the protocols different than your usual testing and torture. If he survived you, he wouldn’t last long. 

 

Failure was not abided here.

 

Snapping your neck forward, you sink your teeth into the doctor and let your blood do it’s deadly work. 

 

It take only a moment, a split second, for you to settle in the doctor’s mind. Taking a second, you glean all you can from him, reveling in the information you had been denied for so long. Jonathan Barrett, Ivy League graduate and government sponsored human experimentation specialist. His mind tickled yours, a weak push against your own consciousness. Without any effort at all, you snuffed out his existence and his body was yours.

 

You moved him quickly, slamming the panic button at his waist and shutting the five of you in the bay. With two strides he was on the other doctor, sinking his teeth into their neck. You swarmed their mind and barely bothered to linger, snuffing her out with a wave of your will. Elizabeth, a thirty something cognitive psychologist with a knack for conditioning. Wretched creatures. The technician was cowering now, the last of Them standing near the door.

 

You stalked forward with one, while the other set to work releasing your own body. It had been a while since you had stretched your consciousness to even a fraction of its potential. They had only ever given you one at a time to Swarm. 

 

They called it that, not you. Swarming, the act of your consciousness invading another’s and taking control. A Hivemind.

 

You weren’t much into labels, you decided as you stretched your own body, absently using the doctor to pry the node out of your neck.

 

You grabbed the doctor and hesitated before you took them, cocking your head in the doctors body.

 

“Don’t be afraid.” your three bodies spoke in unison. 

 

“Subject, you won’t escape, and if you do, they’ll hunt you-”

 

Three laughs filled the room. Carefully wiping yourself of vomit, spit, and blood, you approached them with your own body. 

 

This close, you could see the blue of their eyes behind the shield, heavy brows furrowed in fear and rage. 

 

“I wish them luck.” you whispered, winking before the doctor holding him sank her teeth into her former colleague.

 

It took blood to infect, to Swarm, and you had the host bite her tongue as she tore into him. Only a moment later and your mind sat comfortably in his body. 

 

“ _ Wretched child, you won’t last two days. _ ” he hissed behind your mind.

 

You smiled.

 

“I think I’ll keep you around a while longer,  **Henrick.** You could be useful. Get comfy.”

 

He raged and screamed at you, demanding to be set free, to fade away. It was hell to be trapped in your own body, you knew. 

 

Turning to the technician, four sets of eyes considered him. He shook like a leaf, not a year over twenty five.

 

Elizabeth’s body squatted in front of him, gently removing her splash guard and mask. Reaching forward with a kind smile, she pat the technicians cheek. 

 

“You should run,” four voices suggested.

 

He did.

 

You smiled as the Three escorted you down the hallway, Henrick’s mind raging behind yours. 

 

Pulling a small keycard from Jonathan’s pocket, you unlocked every door in your path, silence greeting you instead of alarms. It felt amazing to be able to stretch your mind. You flexed Henrick’s arms to push open the vault door between you and the outside world, reaching over to hold your own hand with Elizabeths. 

 

Sunlight greeted you, a vast expanse of desert peeking out from the end of the tunnel. 

 

“What a lovely day,” 


	3. An Application of Rare Skill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw: blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suck, I know. My life is in shambles but here, have a short chapter.

_"An explosion near Area 51 in the state of Nevada has rocked the conspiracy community, with many questioning what the government's response will be. It is unclear what..."_

 

Klaus' laugh grated on Five's ears like nothing else.

 

"Aliens now, huh? Worlds going to hell in a hand basket after we got back." he snickered, Ben nodding in agreement as he shoved popcorn into his mouth. Since  recently coming back to life (un-dying? Five didn't care to think more about it), the Horror had developed an obsession with catering to his every sense. Food in particular had been disappearing rapidly from the kitchen. Mom was certainly busy, Diego hovering like a lost hummingbird. 

 

"Not aliens." Five grunted, spinning a pencil absentmindedly. 

 

He could feel Vanya's eyes on him but studiously ignored her. After her confrontation with the Monocle, she had been the only one to take an interest in his worries, his maps, his willd theories. Fat lot of good it did them both, he mused, staring at the screen.

 

Whoever had escaped would cut a swath to them soon enough. The Umbrella Academy was at the height of its fame when he had transported them back, much to his dismay. 

 

He gave it a week  before unexplained events started popping up across the midwest, slowly making its way east. 

 

"Vanya. Coffee. Lets go."

 

* * *

 

 

You hum quietly as streetlights pass by the car windows, driving with Elizabeth while Henrick's body pet your hair. 

 

 _"Sick little beast need a cuddle? We should have euthanized you years ago."_ his mind bit, his consciousness fluttering at the base of your skull. You swat him away with a thought and continue your pseudo nap. Physical contact, even if technically from yourself, was a novelty that you're not keen to give up anytime soon. The other body, William you think his name was, is sitting in the passenger seat speaking on the phone, coordinating a hotel a few hours ahead. 

 

You'd taken the liberty of cleaning up and going shopping with Elizabeth's credit card, cutting the plastic thing in half after and withdrawing the womans savings. Your savings now. Henrick and William's had gone the same way and you were set for quite some time. The government paid its monsters well, it seemed.

 

Miles away, you monitored police scanners with another addition to your Hive, a young patrolman whose name you hadn't bothered to learn before snuffing him out. Unlike the Three, he had been a relatively neutral individual, cheating on his wife but one of the "good" cops on the beat. Kind, non confrontational.  It didn't matter, his usefulness was more important. Guilt had faded as you had stepped into the desert. Had squished the sand and dirt between your soft toes. 

 

Freedom tasted better and better every day. 

 

Reaching over with Elizabeth, you turned on the radio to a news station, four sets of ears listening intently for any sign of pursuit. 

 

"..... _once again, the Umbrella Academy has received accolades after detaining a ring of human traffickers operating in New York City. It is estimated that at least 40 women and children were rescued today as...."_

 

A smile split your face and  you sat up abruptly.

 

"Umbrella Academy?" 

 

Your mind turned inward and you felt Henrick shrink back with a snarl. 

 

" _Forget it little witch, I'm not telling you shi-"_ he cut off with a scream that made you sigh.

 

"Too loud. What do you know about them?"

 

 _"....seven of them, adopted by some rich nutjob. They're...like you. Born to no father and an unwitting mother. They have powers, one can teleport, another is strong. There's a normal one though, don't know her name...."_ Henrick supplied, voice shaky. 

 

Your stomach fluttered in excitement. More...more like you. A family of them, even. 

 

Without hesitating, you turned the patrolman and bit his fingers, black blood spilling out of his mouth as he turned to his partner. You could hear and see the woman screaming through his mind as he grabbed her by the back of the neck and shoved his fingers down her throat, the blood working quickly. Settling into the new mind, you sighed happily as your power flexed and stretched. More room for your mind to settle, it was starting to feel less cramped in your own skull. 

 

Wiping his fingers on his pants, your patrolman's body turned the police car and headed back to the station. 

 

Time for a bit more fun. 

 


End file.
